Good days start with great jeans. All the evidence you need, found here.

Menu

IN DEFENSE OF BODYSUITS

When someone says “bodysuit” my mind instantly conjures a ’90s power woman—short hair, long limbs—flicking through a meticulously merchandized closet filled with “the perfects.” You know—the perfect jeans, the perfect trench, the perfect button-down, the perfect loafers…and hanging above all that perfection, a selection of what may be the actual antithesis of imperfection: Endless. Perfect. Bodysuits.

It’s almost as if you can hear these streamlined silhouettes simultaneously whisper and scream “I’ve got my life together.”

And that’s when this perfect bodysuit daydream begets a barrage of my compulsive questions: Are those things officially called “crotch snaps”? What’s the pitting-out potential? What size do I get? Is bodysuit one word or two? Will I have underwear lines? Are underwear lines cool?Is there enough stretch to be comfy?

To which the bodysuits should retort (in their signature whisper-scream): “Don’t paint us with that boring brush!” And they’re right—bodysuits shouldn’t be considered an indulgence for only the most put-together of souls.

In fact, I find that bodysuits rightly befit the most cluttered of closets, the most daring dressers and the most millennial minds. They can dress down a statement trouser, polish up a pair of old jeans and save the day for your semi-sheer shirt.

When you really think about it, a bodysuit is a bit of a blank canvas—a base layer upon which to build your look—and in my book, that’s pretty darn “perfect.”